Pivot
by Nestrik
Summary: A what if? story. Rafe really did die in England.
1. “Mayday! Mayday! I’m goin’ down! Mayday!...

PIVOT  
  
Rafael McCawley screamed into the radio transmitter over and over again.  
  
"Mayday! Mayday! I'm goin' down! Mayday! I've been hit! Mayday!"  
  
The black RAF plane spiraled downwards towards the ominously glittering English Channel, waiting with open arms to welcome him into their depths. The jet-black plume of smoke that followed the plane hissed as the machine hit the Channel.  
  
The oil clouded around Rafe's face as he sunk deeper. He hadn't been able to take even one damned gulp of air before his plunge.  
  
His heart was pounding his brain. Rafe raised a fist to the window of the cockpit he had shot. The glass shattered and ripped his thick leather glove. Red now clouded and mixed with the black oil about his face.  
  
Rafe struggled up, but the inches became miles and the centimeters became yards, and all his pain was washed away with a glittering shaft of light as he was lifted upwards, 


	2. Danny felt a strange mixture of jealousy...

PIVOT  
  
RAFE MCCAWLEYS PLANE SHOT DOWN ZERO FOURTEEN HOURS OVER ENGLISH CHANNEL STOP BODY RETURNED TO HAWAII FOR PROPER BURIAL STOP HE DIED A HEROS DEATH STOP SINCERELY STOP THE ROYAL AIR FORCE  
  
Daniel Walker crumpled the telegram in his hands, crushing it into wrinkles with his strong fingers accustomed to gripping the yoke of an airplane, not crushing paper.  
  
Rafe.  
  
Was.  
  
Dead.  
  
Each word filtered itself into his mind one by one. Rafe was dead, and Danny Walker was alone in the world. Rafe had died a hero's death. Rafe had shot down planes. Rafe had fought in the RAF.  
  
Danny felt a strange mixture of jealousy and pride for his lost friend.  
  
After a minute, pride won, and Danny felt the first tears well up in the bottoms of his eyelids. 


	3. Strange what phenomenon could happen to ...

PIVOT  
  
Danny stayed in the bathroom for a really long time. Red noticed because he really needed to piss.  
  
Dammit, hurry up, he whispered in his mind.  
  
To distract himself, Red tried to think about Betty. That only made him need to pee more. Strange what phenomenon could happen to a human being.  
  
Fortunately, Danny came out of the bathroom just then, and Red hurried inside. After he was done, Red noticed strange scraps of paper in the garbage.  
  
After checking to make sure there wasn't anything else that was toxic in the garbage, Red reached into the can and pulled out a fistful of the scraps.  
  
Rafe M- death- shot d- hero- RAF. The only decipherable words. Red put them back into the garbage once more, and went from the bathroom to the barracks to change into his uniform. He was going with Danny, no matter what he said to stop him.  
  
Danny was buttoning the collar of his uniform when Red stepped in. Their eyes met, and Red knew that Danny was trying not to cry.  
  
"No," Danny said.  
  
"Yes," Red said. Danny didn't have the strength to tell Red he wanted to go tell Evelyn by himself, so he didn't argue further.  
  
Ten minutes later, Red was driving Danny to the infirmary, where Evelyn was treating Dorie Miller's boxing souvenir.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer- everyone belongs to the movie.  
  
A/N- this is your basic what if story, the What If? being that Rafe really did die in England. I know its been done before, but everyone's viewpoint is different. Please no pointless flames, just constructive criticism. 


	4. He placed the bag back and felt somethin...

Danny shakily poured out a small glass of champagne in front of Rafe's picture. His hand shook as he picked up his own glass and raised it.  
  
"To Rafe McCawley," he said, his voice, like his hands, trembling. "The best pilot, and the best friend," Danny paused, gulping down air, "I ever knew. or ever will know." Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, but he squinted so that they would not fall in front of his friends. "To him," he said quickly, and tipped back his glass and let it drain into his mouth.  
  
Evelyn let hers slide down. The amber liquid was smooth and fiery, but she was to busy blinking back tears to notice. She raised her hand to her mouth, in order to commandeer the taste the champagne had left in her throat and to hold back a sob that was threatening to push through her closed lips.  
  
Betty was only seventeen, and therefore underage. But that hadn't stopped her from getting into the Navy, and she tipped back her glass without a thought. The taste made a trail of fire, alcohol really, down her throat. She made a face to ease the burning and relaxed when it passed.  
  
Red, Anthony, Billy, and Joe drank their glasses solemnly, with expressionless faces. Even though Joe had never met Rafe, he understood the importance of this man to his new friends, and to the war in England.  
  
Gooz stared at his glass, wondering if this was the right time to say something to cheer every one up, even if it was stupid. He decided not to and drank silently instead.  
  
After the gathering, the participants went home. Danny had received word along with the telegram that the plane carrying Rafe's body would arrive that very same evening. He told no one, except he was thinking of telling Evelyn so that they could go get the coffin to tell her. Danny knew that she would come if she was told about it, but he didn't know if she could handle it. He barely knew if he could handle it, and he had known Rafe his whole life.  
  
Danny decided to tell Evelyn when the body got to the funeral home as he dressed in uniform to drive to Hickam Field. The Hawaiian evening was warm with a cool breeze that made Danny feel stuffy in his uniform. On the seat next to him in the car were Rafe's medals that he hadn't brought to England and a huge American flag.  
  
Twenty minutes later he parked and placed his hat on his brown hair. He was the only one there. Not even Colonel Doolittle knew, or if he did, he had decided to leave this moment to Danny. The plane had not landed yet. It couldn't even be seen.  
  
Danny took a bench and opened the bag of medals and patches. There wasn't enough room for all of them on his uniform, Rafe used to joke.  
  
Danny slid his fingers along a badge. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ARMY AIR CORPS, it said, over and above the fighter plane embroidered in the center.  
  
He placed the bag back and felt something strange. Danny pulled out the wooden object and stared at it.  
  
It was smooth and rounded. Words were sloppily carved into it. MCCAWLEY AND WALKER PILOTS, it said. Danny touched the plane, which he had carved himself.  
  
It was a summer's day in Tennessee, 1923. Danny had just come back from the fields to find Rafe gone. He shook his shaggy hair and noticed a four-by- four piece of half- rotten wood under the staircase. Drawing his eyebrows together in concentration, he cut out a piece, about a foot by a foot, and ran up to his room. Taking out his pocketknife again, he cut out two rather uneven, but still good circles from the wood. He stuck his knife into the wood and pushed. MCCAWLEY AND WALKER PILOTS, the boy traced into both circles. Underneath, he sketched a plane with a pencil, and traced it with his knife as best as he could. The next day, Danny walked to the McCawley residence with the badge in an envelope labeled RAFE, in large letters that Rafe could comprehend. Rafe had been so happy that day. It was the day that both of them decided to join the army.  
  
Danny placed the badge back in Rafe's bag, numb. Rafe had stuck by him when he had been made fun of in middle school and hazed in high school, even though Rafe was popular with the girls and Danny wasn't. Danny had had one girlfriend. Rafe had had too many to count. He couldn't believe Rafe had kept his badge through all that.  
  
It had been worth it. 


	5. Among the important ships are the Arizon...

Danny sat on the bench for another hour, taking out and examining all of Rafe's medals and badges until the plane finally came. He shot to his feet and snapped into attention as a British officer came off the plane and headed towards Danny.  
  
"Lieutenant Daniel Walker?"  
  
"Yessir."  
  
The officer paused. "General Hayden O'Brien. I was Lieutenant McCawley's chief commanding officer."  
  
Danny extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."  
  
The Irish general nodded and stepped aside as four men carried a casket down the steps of the plane. It was covered in a British banner. Danny reached behind him and pulled out the American flag that he had brought along. He stepped forwards and looked over the casket for a moment. Then Danny reached out his fingers and plucked the British ensigna from the coffin. He folded it and handed it to General O'Brien. Then, unfolding the American flag, he placed and smoothed it over the coffin of his best friend.  
  
  
  
Evelyn Stewart-Johnson sat on the jetty nearest to the nurses' house. She fingered the swan Rafe had made her, smoothing out its crumpled edges. Evelyn sighed. It was useless now. Rafe was gone, and fixing an origami animal wouldn't help in the least.  
  
Evelyn heard footsteps behind her on the jetty, soft and slow. She knew it was Danny before she heard his Southern drawl from at her back.  
  
"The coffin came today," Danny said softly, sitting down next to her and waiting for a response. He got none.  
  
"The wake is tomorrow," he announced, except he pronounced 'tomorrow' as 'tomora.'  
  
Evelyn swallowed. "I. Danny. I'm not sure if I can come. Will it be open casket?"  
  
"Do you want it to be open casket?"  
  
"Oh, Danny, I don't know. I. what do you want?"  
  
"I wanna see his face one more time."  
  
Evelyn sighed and answered him. "Alright. Open casket."  
  
Danny sat next to Evelyn until the night descended upon Oahu and demanded that the two return to their quarters.  
  
  
  
The wake was the next day, and almost every military personnel in Hawaii came. Red, Joe, Gooz, Anthony, and Billy were there, along with Betty, Barbara, Martha, and Sandra. Colonel Doolittle and General Paterson from the air base in Long Island came also. Rafe's parents were long dead, so Evelyn and Danny manned the receiving line.  
  
After the formalities, Danny stood at the side of Rafe's coffin. His body had been moved from the makeshift one into a mahogany one. Danny extracted the bag of medals and took them out, one by one, and laid them at Rafe's side.  
  
"You said you'd come back for the both of us," he said throatily. "You promised."  
  
It was a spring day in 1941. The train station's windows were large and the building glowed with sunlight as a regularly dressed man walked beside a man in uniform.  
  
"If anything happens to me, I want you to be the one who tells her," Rafe said, speaking of Evelyn.  
  
"Well, you just come back for the both of us, alright?" Danny said. They had embraced in a brotherly fashion.  
  
Tears started to fall down Danny's eyes as he finished putting the medals beside his best friend's corpse. "Why'd you have to volunteer? You'd be okay now, not in a damned box. Why'd you try to protect me? Why, Rafe, why in hell did you.?" Danny rambled on until he wasn't sure what he was asking of Rafe anymore. Evelyn came up and rubbed his back like a baby.  
  
It was then that Danny knelt by the side of the coffin, bowed his head, and cried.  
  
An hour or so later, the mood had changed dramatically. The group was in a Japanese restaurant, one of the ones where the cooks make the food right in front of you. The cook, named Mako, flipped his knife at the zucchini, which flew towards Betty. She leaned her head and tried to catch it in her mouth, and succeeded.  
  
Red, who was keeping score, announced loudly, "Betty, 1, Danny, 2. C'mon, Betty, tie up the game!"  
  
Mako grinned and flipped two zucchini slices at Betty. Leaning far back in her chair, Betty caught them, but then her chair flipped over, leaving Betty's legs splayed in the air and giving Mako an excellent view.  
  
"Wooo!" said Gooz and Billy, as Betty straightened herself and the chair, laughing and apologizing to Mako.  
  
A waitress approached. "Mako, call on Line two. They say it is an emergency."  
  
As Mako left, Danny said, "I remember one time when Rafe busted his leg on the back hoe when he jumped off the roof."  
  
Everyone cracked up at the memory. The time for tears was long gone.  
  
Meanwhile, Mako was taking his call at the front desk. "Hello?" he said in accented English.  
  
A voice answered swiftly in Japanese. "Have you filled the requirements?"  
  
Mako answered in Japanese. "Yes, sir. Among the important battleships are the Arizona, the Missouri, the Oklahoma, and the West Virginia. I have sent you pictures through a reliable source. In fact, I am serving some Navy nurses and pilots right now, if you want me to ask them some questions."  
  
"No," the voice replied smoothly. "Remember last time you simply asked questions?"  
  
Mako gulped. "Yes, sir," he muttered.  
  
"And if it happens again." There was a long silence on the other end of the line before the voice spoke harshly. "Give me Jin, now."  
  
Mako silently handed the phone to the clerk and went back to his stove, where he hoped his 'friends' wouldn't notice the lack of blood from his face.  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer- You know who belongs to who. I only wish I owned Danny. :^D  
  
A/N- tell me in your review whether or not you want Mako to be a larger part of the story from now on. 


	6. The knife was almost as fascinating as b...

The knife was long and sharp. Mako wiped the rag along the length of it, cleaning it of zucchini seeds. The ridged edge was sharp. Mako's blood had met this knife three times. Twice he had accidentally cut himself while cooking. The blood had sizzled on the stove as his customers either stared at it in fascination or leapt up, screaming at the sight of blood.  
  
Blood was a curious thing. It brought both life and death. Mako's blood was flowing, pulsing in his wrists and in his neck. Blood was at both sides of the spectrum. His blood was rushing towards death.  
  
Mako knew he wouldn't live much longer. They'd come after him. They didn't know the depths of his treason.  
  
That secretary in China had been too close a call. He remembered the skeptical look in her eyes when he delved too deep with his questions. She was buried the next day.  
  
The knife was almost as fascinating as blood.  
  
~*~  
  
"Thank you for tuning in to the A.M. News!" A young woman with golden hair swept into a bun rearranged her papers and spoke back into the microphone. "I'm Courtney La Day for NEWSRadio. Here's Tim O'Brien, with the headlines."  
  
"Thank you, Courtney," said Tim. Over the table, he smiled at her. Courtney smiled back, and then nodded towards the microphone.  
  
"Oh yes," Tim muttered. "In news today, a Japanese cook was found dead in the kitchen of Little Tokyo, the restaurant in which he worked. His name has not yet been released. Oahu Police are not sure if it was murder or suicide. That's it for local news. In world news, Adolf Hitler advances all fronts."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N- Finally! I'm back! I'm so sorry, people, I've been doing so much lately. School's started, I'm on the cross country team, I have homework, and on Fanfiction I'm one fourth of The Ice Mice (we have two Harry Potter stories in the works and probably at least two more on the way), and on my personal account, I'm working on "Once and Again," "Seeoie," "Birthday Boy," and I HAVE to rewrite several of my stories as well as read everything I want to. So. I'm sort of watching Pearl Harbor right now and I was INSPIRED. Enjoy! 


	7. Will you marry me?

December wasn't cold in Hawaii, but memories of winters passed in Long Island made up for it.  
  
Evelyn walked to the Hula House. She had asked Danny to meet her there. Her nails, usually painted bright red, were torn to shreds. She was telling Danny TONIGHT. Six had always been her lucky number. She was going to tell Danny today, December 6th, 1941, that she loved him and that she was carrying his child.  
  
The bartender made a slash on the box of December 6th on his calendar. "Happy Sunday!" he said to the pilots manning the bar stools with a chuckle. Four of them, Billy, Tony, Gooz, and Joe, were regulars. There was another one with them tonight who had become even more frequent in the Hula. Sandy Walter, or something like that. You could never tell with all the noise in a bar. Sandy downed a small shot glass of vodka and then looked at the door. The bartender smiled and looked away. Sandy was waiting for a lady. Why his mother or friends had decided to call him Sandy was beyond him. That kid's hair was darker than a deer's shit.  
  
Just then, a raven-haired woman walked through the door. She was pushing twenty-five, the bartender decided. Perfect age range for this little lady. He leaned over the bar and smiled at her. "A-lo-HA!" he said to the woman.  
  
"That one's taken," said Gooz, his cocky grin on his face. Sandy stood and hugged the woman. "Hi, Danny," the woman said.  
  
Sandy has a name, and it ain't Sandy. Damn, that smarts. Sorta liked the name Sandy for him, the bartender thought.  
  
Evelyn steered Danny out the door. The sound of Pacific waves crashing on the beach was like familiar music. Evelyn and Danny removed their shoes and let the surf wash up to their ankles.  
  
"Danny," Evelyn began tentatively.  
  
Danny looked down at her, the always mournful look in his eyes. "What is it, Ev?" he asked.  
  
"I'm pregnant," she blurted out, and then burst into tears.  
  
Danny was silent as he comforted her, his brain whirring, digesting.  
  
He was going to be a father.  
  
"That's great, Ev!" he said after five more minutes.  
  
Evelyn wiped her eyes. "You're not. mad?" she ventured.  
  
"A'course not. Sorta wanted this. Hell, I did, so I could do this."  
  
Danny knelt in the sand. The knees of his pants were sandy and soaked within five seconds.  
  
"Evelyn," he asked.  
  
"Yes, Danny?" she said breathlessly.  
  
"Will you marry me?" 


	8. Welcome to Hell

C'mon, Danny. Rafe ain't here to steal your spotlight.  
  
Danny shook his head, trying to knock thoughts like that out of his head and focus. But the voices kept on coming.  
  
If Rafe was still alive, he would've taken your girl.  
  
Danny shook his head again as he gripped the yoke of the fighter plane.  
  
~One Hour Earlier~  
  
The popping noises. What were they?  
  
Evelyn stretched luxuriously. The thick cotton sheets tangled around her legs, and she shook them free. Danny, she thought. I'm engaged to Danny. This is his room. His barrack. His bed.  
  
More popping. Evelyn took a pillow and put it to her head. Strange, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. It kinda sounds like gunfire.  
  
Ten minutes later, Betty was viciously shaking Evelyn awake.  
  
~Same Time, Outside the Barrack~  
  
What do I do? What do I do?  
  
"Get that 50 cal! 50 cal!" Billy shouted, referring to the 50 caliber guns. Red's stuttering had woken them all that morning.  
  
"Aw, the Navy's always buzzing us," Anthony had mumbled into his pillow.  
  
"Shut up, Red!" Billy had yelled at his friend.  
  
Now it made no difference.  
  
Quit it with the 'What do I do?' Danny! What would RAFE do?  
  
Such thoughts raced through Danny's brain faster than it took a Jap bullet to get from the machine gun on the Zero to the ground. Half an hour too late, Danny had realized that he had to get in the air, and fast. He'd called Earl.  
  
Rafe, if he had still been alive, would have known what to do within five minutes.  
  
"Danny, what are ya doin', target practice or somethin'?" Earl had said in his grammatically incorrect English.  
  
"I think World War II just started!" Danny had yelled back into the receiver, his Tennessee accent ever more the prominent.  
  
Danny jumped into the car after calling Earl. "Billy!" he shouted to the dirty blonde in boxers. "Joe! Gooz! Red! Tony! C'mon!"  
  
"Can't!" Billy yelled back, gesturing towards the fifty-caliber gun he was loading.  
  
Sisssssss. The sound of rushing air sounded in the pilots ears as Red, Joe, Anthony and Gooz hopped into the army car.  
  
The bomb clanked on the ground, once, twice, three times and over the sacks that were all but guarding Billy from enemy ground fire.  
  
"Billy!" Anthony shouted, just as Red yelled, "Run!"  
  
Billy watched, mesmerized, as the fan stopped whirring. His head and torso popped back out from behind the sacks where he had fallen. "It's a dud!" he yelled gratefully, waving his arms at his friends in the army car.  
  
"Yeah, well, c'mon then!" Danny shouted. Billy leapt over the sacks. "Wait!" he yelled. He dove back over the pile of burlap and touched his semiautomatic gun. That was when the 'dud' blew.  
  
Danny pressed his foot to the gas petal and sped off. For him, there was no time for tears.  
  
Ten minutes later, Earl was gesturing wildly at his hangar. "Well, she's down, she's broke, she's shit. I've got four left," Earl explained. Danny brought Red, Gooz, Tony and Joe into a circle and explained their positions. Danny had decided that he would be the first one in the air, and the others would follow, with Red and Tony on the ground.  
  
Thirty-five minutes after Rafe would have been in the air, Danny was battling his brain as Red prepared the B-40 for liftoff. Don't think, he told himself as he turned onto the runway. Don't think.  
  
"Danny, you've got three Zeros on your tail," Earl said into the radio. Danny twisted around and looked behind him.  
  
Turn! Turn! Earl was screaming into his ears. Danny vaguely registered Earl's cries. He heard popping. It was getting closer. Then flames engulfed the cockpit and clothed Danny in the fires of the Apocalypse.  
  
Welcome to Hell was Danny Walker's last thought. 


	9. Fire slashed through her ribcage

"Betty, come on!" Evelyn yelled. She ran towards the hospital.  
  
"Ev!" yelled Betty. "Look, Zeros!" Sandra said, and pointed over her shoulder like some stupid tourist.  
  
Evelyn looked behind her. Black planes were speeding towards the harbor. Its glistening water flashed at her ominously. She turned back and continued to run. Danny, she willed herself to think. Danny.  
  
Her knees were buckling. Oh no, Evelyn thought. Please no.  
  
Fire slashed through her ribcage, tainted with lead. The thought of Danny could not save her.  
  
***  
  
"I think she's dead," the man said to Betty. He held a woman in his arms. Blood soaked her blue pumps, turning them to a grotesque purple. Her crisp white shirt was covered in gore and dirt.  
  
Betty nodded- she couldn't waste her time over corpses when the living were in trouble. Even she, only seventeen, could understand that. Pointing the private in the right direction, Betty brushed away the blood matted brunette curls to see the woman's face.  
  
Sandra gasped, placed a hand over her mouth, and began to cry. 


	10. Authors Note

That's all, folks! I hoped you enjoyed this story. I'm sorry the updates were so slow.  
  
I'm considering a sequel- say so in your reviews if you want one.  
  
I'm sorry if I upset anyone with Danny's, Rafe's, and/or Evelyn's death. it seemed right for the story to me.  
  
This story began with the thought, "What if Rafe really did die in England?" This is what I think would have been the alternative.  
  
Special thanks, to.  
  
*All my reviewers- reviews are so much to me and my motivation. When I got my first review, all those authors on Fanfiction know what that first review does to you. *Kumiko Eharu- Gracias, me amiga! Who ever thought that there was someone who could understand me out there? *Kazuko Itoe- ROCK RULES! *Xela Lupe, Unicorn Angel Gurl, Good Charlotte's Girl, The Good Haiku Police, The Ice Mice, AmBLONDE- My friends, if you leave me out of a cocaine bust, I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!  
  
lol jk.. *Kristen- fill me in on future BUSTS! *Kelly- wanna take a stroll wit me? Wannawannawanna?! *Nick- Chevelle isn't the ONLY song we agree on. is it? lol *PJ- Game? Game? You got game? *Saira- Lose urself in the music, lady! *Allie- Jordan is a jackass, Jordan is a jackass. *Anyone else I forgot. sorry it's the day after Halloween and my brain is clouded with sugar  
  
And of course, to the directors and producers. I LOVE YOU JOSH HARTNETT!!! 


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